Who believes in the Tooth Fairy?
by Disasteriffic Kaz
Summary: Sometimes the sweet things from your childhood? Well they end up not being so sweet. Set mid-season 6 post 6x14 Mannequin 3: The Reckoning. A stand-alone hunt. Some hurt!sam with a sprinkling of hurt!dean and a dash of that Winchester angst/comfort
1. Chapter 1

**Title:** Who believes in the Tooth Fairy?

**Author**: Disasteriffic Kaz

**Info:** Sometimes the sweet things from your childhood? Well they end up not being so sweet. Set mid-season 6 post 6x14 Mannequin 3: The Reckoning. A stand-alone hunt. Some hurt!sam with a sprinkling of hurt!dean and a dash of that Winchester angst/comfort we all love so much.

**Author's note:** This fic came about because of a drunken comment from my Mr. while I was trying to decide what beastie to write about next. He said…or rather slurred: "What about an evil tooth fairy? Dude that would SUCK!" So here you are. Blame my honey.

This one is located where it is because while I was googling locations, I saw a picture of what passes for the center of town and the local diner, Kelly's. :D That was the name of my dog growing up so of course it had to be set there. He was named after my favorite Angel by the way. :P Charlie's Angels that is. Yes, I'm that old.

**Do please Review once you've read. :D Every comment and vote of support helps keep me writing. Not to mention if I've pooched anything, someone can always tell me. :P**

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_**CHAPTER 1**_

Jeremiah Gordon stood over his bed, staring at it and swaying. He took another swig from the whiskey bottle clasped in his right hand. He rubbed absently at the bandaged cut on his chest with the other.

"N…not gonna have no dreams t'nite." He slurred drunkenly. His bed had become his enemy the last few nights. Vicious nightmares hounding his sleep; mystery wounds he woke up with and last night one of his damn teeth had fallen out. He figured he must have swallowed it but with everything else, it was just too much. Tonight he'd crawl in a bottle and get some real sleep. He absently stuck his tongue into the empty space where his tooth had been and took another swig from the almost empty bottle.

Jeremiah flopped onto the offending bed and swallowed the last of the alcohol with a smile. He fell back, the bottle slipping from his fingers and let his eyes close on a happy, intoxicated smile. He felt himself drifting off to sleep. He thought he should get under the covers properly but decided he just didn't care. He lay there, floating numb in a whiskey sea, the mattress spinning gently beneath him with the rest of his room and just as relaxation finally found him, something changed.

He was far too drunk to jerk awake as he should have. He felt a sudden weight on his chest. It pressed him into the mattress. His breath began to choke in his lungs. At first he thought he was dying of alcohol poisoning but then he felt hands slide up his chest, arms slip around his shoulders. Jeremiah forced his eyes to open a crack, to look up at who…what sat upon his chest and if he'd had the breath to do so, he would have screamed.

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_Meanwhile, back at the ranch…_

"No really, Sammy. A Dude Ranch? Next time I'm picking the job. This is lame." Dean laughed at the disgusted, long suffering look on his brothers' face. "You see those 'cowboys' this afternoon? Sequins man. That's just wrong." Sam was somewhere near hitting him for all the Brokeback jokes during the drive in and Dean just couldn't seem to help himself. Six months of Terminator Sam had made him truly appreciate his little brother with his soul back; chick flick moments, mood swings, nightmares and all. Maybe especially the nightmares, he thought to himself. Just knowing that he hadn't slept the whole of the six months he'd been soulless was enough to make Dean's skin crawl. He could admit to himself that every time Sam woke him up with a nightmare, Dean smiled as it was just reinforcement he had his brother back all the way. Now if they could just not crash down the great wall of Sam, life would be good.

"Are you even paying attention?" Sam asked, kicking a pebble into Dean's leg.

"What? I'm here aren't I?" Dean grinned. "So, Sadie the spirit hooker."

"Saloon girl." Sam corrected.

"Like I said…hooker." Dean grinned. "Probably dog faced too, man you remember that scary chick in Sunrise? I swear, her mouth ate her own teeth."

"Ugh." Sam groaned and shook his head. "Focus, Dean." The ranch had been haunted lately by the amorous spirit of a Saloon girl. She'd yet to actually kill anyone, though she'd injured several. She seemed more interested in attempting to ply her old trade on the living men wandering the place. There were quite a few men, victims, who flat refused to tell anyone exactly what had happened. "The groundskeeper said her grave should be back here somewhere."

Dean looked out over the hundred or so tombstones spread out on a low hill beneath a twisted Joshua tree. "Fantastic. We'll let's find pretty woman's bones and get this done."

Sam snorted a laugh and tapped the barrel of his shotgun against his brothers with a light clang before taking off around the right side of the cemetery while Dean took the left. His flashlight bobbed along the stones as he walked, glancing over ever so often to see where Dean was. Many of the stones were hard to read, forcing him to squint to try and puzzle out the letters. Sadie was here somewhere.

Sam had chosen this hunt because the ghost hadn't killed anyone and didn't look to be close to doing so. After losing Isabel the way they had on the last job, he thought they needed something less life and death. Dean certainly needed a break from it. Oh he'd shoved his feelings down deep but the number of beer bottles piling around him each night were mute testimony to how much it was really bothering him. Even Bobby had taken to giving him looks about the drinking, which was a bit pot calling the kettle but Sam would never say. What they'd all survived, or not survived depending the last few years, a little alcoholism wasn't exactly a bad thing.

"Hey, Sasquatch!" Dean called. "Think I found her!"

Sam jogged over and saw his brother had indeed found the late Sadie's resting place. It was a simple stone, just her name and the date of her death. Dean slapped the top of it twice with a smile and dug his shovel into the dry earth. The night air was hot and still. Both brothers discarded their jackets over the headstone though it did little to relieve the heat.

"Drink, Sammy." Dean said suddenly, climbing from the hole to dig a water bottle from his duffel and tossed it down. He was pretty sure his little brother wasn't sweating like he should be anymore. The heat was oppressive. The last thing he needed was to have to carry a swooning giant back to the car.

"Thanks." Sam smiled and hastily swigged down half the bottle. The heat was beginning to get to him. His stomach had been churning for a half hour. The water, though warm, was immediately refreshing. He tossed it back up to Dean and started digging again, grinning up when his shovel thunked into wood.

"Yahtzee!" Dean clapped his hands together and grabbed his shovel up again.

"Dean!" Sam's shout was warning enough. He looked up to find himself face to face with an angry, over painted face. Sadie screamed, reaching out for Dean and dissipated in a rush with the report from Dean's shotgun. "Ok." He said, breathing heavily and smirked down at Sam. "She's not horsefaced. Dig faster. I got your back." Sam shook his head and began hurriedly trying to clear the top of the coffin.

Dean stood over the hole and his brother, gun raised and alert. Sadie appeared again, further away and he filled her full of rock salt again. "Man, you'd think they be happy we're sending 'em on!" Sadie was actually fairly attractive for a nineteenth century prostitute, slim and blonde and damn determined as Dean shot her again. "Hurry up down there!"

"Almost there!" Sam shouted up, now slamming the shovel into the rotten wood.

Dean grunted and pitched forward as something connected with his back. It was cold and hard and he rolled, losing his gun to find Sadie standing over him. "Sammy! Get a move on!" Sadie dropped to straddle him. "Oh hell no." The look that came over her face could only be described as lascivious. She ran ghostly, cold hands up his muscled chest and leaned toward him for a kiss as one hand trailed lower and lower. "Holy crap. Sam!" Her dead lips found his as her hand made him shout and try to roll away.

Dean startled at the sound of a shotgun and Sadie vanished again, leaving him gasping in shock in the warm dirt.

"Dude." Sam smirked, then laughed and pulled his brother up. "You sure you don't want me to wait a while?"

"Shut up." Dean brushed off his shirt and pants and refused to meet his brothers' eyes. "Let's burn this bitch."

Sam swallowed another laugh and let Dean pour salt and lighter fluid over the now revealed skeleton. He did it with such relish Sam couldn't help but snort another laugh, earning himself a scowl. Sadie reappeared as Dean lit a book of matches and dropped it in. The ghost gave a last scream and went up in her own ball of fire.

"That'll teach you to keep your hands to yourself." Dean muttered and grabbed his shovel again. "Sammy, I see one smirk on that screwy face of yours and you're getting clobbered."

Sam wiped a hand over his face, trying to put away the laugh bubbling there and cleared his throat. He just nodded, not trusting himself to speak and started shoveling dirt back into the grave.

"Uh-huh." Dean glared at him. "You just keep it that way." He gave a body wide shiver. "You see how you feel after a ghost grabs your junk."

Now Sam did laugh. "Dude. Been there done that."

"What? When?" Dean tossed a shovel of dirt at his brother, making him laugh harder.

"The Woman in White man." Sam laughed again and blushed hard. "She got all handsy before she tried to rip my heart out and you shot in her the face."

Dean stared at him and then shook his head, finally giving a deep laugh. "Trust you to get lucky before she kills ya." Sam blushed even harder and Dean's eyes started watering he was laughing so hard. "Oh man, she didn't?" Sam ducked his head, shoveling dirt with purpose. "Holy crap. I'm filing this one away for later use."

"You do and I'm telling Bobby about your personal time with Sadie." Sam growled, amused and hopelessly embarrassed.

"That's low, man. That's low." Dean shook his head and tossed another shovel of dirt onto Sam's back.

"Hey!" Sam returned the favor with a clod of dirt to Dean's face. Filling the grave quickly degenerated into a childish outburst of flying dirt and insults. When they were done, the grave filled…mostly, they returned to the Impala laughing and tired. Sam smiled, seeing some of the stress gone from his brother's green eyes, even if only for an hour and decided it was worth coming clean about his close encounter.

"I'm hungry." Dean announced and tossed the shovels and guns in the trunk.

"Dude, you're always hungry." Sam chuckled.

"Am not." Dean strode to the driver's side and got behind the wheel. "There was that time in '87." Sam snorted and brushed some excess dirt from his sleeve onto Dean's leg. "You're gonna be detailin' my Baby you keep that up." Dean warned and started the engine, enjoying the growl as he eased away from the Ranch with a smile. "I'm picking the next job."

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"Okay what about this?" Dean turned the laptop to face Bobby. He was trying to find another job for them before Sam finished cleaning the front seat of the car. Dean smirked. He'd deserved it.

"That's not a job." Bobby declared, emptying his beer and going to his beat up refrigerator to grab another. "That's a bear."

"Could be a werewolf!" Dean argued. Bobby shook his head and came back, scrolling the page up slightly.

"See? Bear." He pointed and Dean growled, having missed the obvious picture below the article.

"Well hell." Dean went back to searching. He wasn't stupid. He'd figured it out, why Sam had settled on such an easy job. He smirked, easy job with an easy ghost. Sam was trying to protect him. That thought alone made Dean pause and close his eyes for a second. The image of his brother watching him be turned was slowly fading. This brother he knew would never let that happen.

"You takin' a nap, son?" Bobby knocked a beer against the back of the boy's head and set it in front of him.

"That's alcohol abuse." Dean answered and took a grateful pull from the bottle, eyes scanning the stories again. "I was just thinking."

"Anything I should know about?" Bobby asked. Dean's face had been so serious for a moment. They'd all had it rough but Dean, well he just didn't have the same coping ability of his little brother. Sam wore his heart on his sleeve. Sure it got stomped on more but he didn't bottle everything up like his older brother.

"Nope." Dean said shortly and gave his adoptive father a smile. He was definitely not in the mood for sharing. "Ok, I think I got one this time. This is too weird not to be our kinda thing."

Bobby swiveled the screen to himself and read. "Five people gone missin'. Four bodies turned up drained of blood and…" He read it again to be sure. "All missing a tooth?"

"Yep." Dean raised his beer in a salute and took a swig. "Friends and family say they were all having freaky nightmares before they went missing too."

"Devil's Lake, North Dakota?" Bobby raised a brow. "Well that doesn't exactly inspire confidence."

"What doesn't?" Sam asked as he came in the back door, went to the sink and started washing his hands.

"Found us a job." Dean replied with a grin. "Devil's Lake, North Dakota."

Sam dried his hands and pulled a beer out of the fridge, leaned against the counter and frowned. "Isn't that a bit like asking for trouble? Devil's lake?" Sam gave a nervous laugh. "We don't have the best luck with devil related things you know."

Dean winced and forced a smile. "S'okay. I can find something else." He turned back but Sam laughed again.

"No. Tell me what you found?" Sam pulled a chair over with his foot and sat, arms resting on the back. "What's the job?"

Dean studied him for a second, seeing nothing but steadiness in his blue-green eyes he nodded. "Whole lot of weirdness is what we got." He pulled the laptop away from Bobby and told Sam all he'd gleaned already.

"So, what? Evil tooth fairy?" Sam asked finally, making Dean laugh.

"Uh oh." Bobby said softly.

"Uh oh, what?" Dean turned a surprised face to him. "There's no uh oh here. What uh oh?"

"Didn't think of it til Sam mentioned it." Bobby said and rose. He went to his living room, which doubled as his library and started rooting around over full shelves looking for a specific volume.

"What? Tooth fairy?" Sam followed him in. "You're kidding right?"

"Sammy, I think Bobby's finally gone round the bed." Dean said sotto voice and nudged his brother. "Senility man. Old age is catching up."

"Boy you're not too big for me to take over my knee." Bobby warned him. Dean gave him his patented 'try it' smirk and Bobby chuckled. "Here it is." He pulled out an old, beaten up book. The binding was falling apart and the lettering on the cover in faded gold was some form of Gaelic. He leafed quickly through and then handed it to Sam.

"A Cailleach?" Sam said in surprise.

"A Kelly-what?" Dean looked over his shoulder.

"Cailleach." Bobby sat at his desk. "It's one of the oldest creatures of Faerie. Hell I thought they were extinct." He scratched his head. "Everyone did. No one's seen one of these for at least the last three hundred years."

"Fairies." Dean snorted and clapped Sam on the back. "I knew this was the job for you."

"Bite me, Dean." Sam said absently, reading the faded information on the age-browned pages. "Wait, so the whole thing about the Tooth fairy, that's based in fact?" He looked up as Bobby snorted.

"Isn't everything? Didn't I teach you idjits anything?" Bobby came and took the book back. "The Cailleach, well this variety of them anyway, would torment her victims for three nights running with nightmares, steal one of their teeth to bind them and then drain the poor suckers dry." He sat back down, thumping the book open on the cluttered desk. "It's why people leave coins under their pillows. It's not to attract the damn thing, it's too keep her away. Well it used to be." He turned a page and held it up. "They used to put wrought iron pieces under their pillows. Creatures of Faerie are vulnerable to it."

"So we know how to gank her then." Dean smiled. "What do you say, Sammy? Wanna go nab us an evil tooth fairy?"

Sam stared, shook his head. "Dude there are so many things wrong with that sentence."


	2. Chapter 2

**Title:** Who believes in the Tooth Fairy?

**Author**: Disasteriffic Kaz

**Info:** Set mid-season 6 post 6x14 Mannequin 3: The Reckoning. A stand-alone hunt. Some hurt!sam with a sprinkling of hurt!dean and a dash of that Winchester angst/comfort we all love so much.

**Author's note:** Ok so there's rather a lot of smooshy stuff in this chapter. It's all my honey's fault. Hard to watch him taking care of his little brother, who has JRA, and not want to write mush! For spending ten minutes helping him get his shoes on because he just couldn't bend down far enough to reach them, getting his coat on, helping him stand and it never seems to matter that they're both in their thirties. When his little brother needs him, all the macho crap vanishes. :D

**Do please Review once you've read. :D Every comment and vote of support helps keep me writing. Not to mention if I've pooched anything, someone can always tell me. :P**

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_**CHAPTER 2**_

The rumble of the Impala's engine carried through the car. Rather than irritate, it was soothing. Dean felt his muscles relax one by one as they drove along the lonely road into the darkening night. He glanced over to the passenger seat and smiled. Sam had been lulled to sleep with a lap full of papers and maps, research for the case, with his head turned toward Dean.

They were about an hour out from Devil's Lake and Dean sincerely hoped Sam had been right. He'd done a bit of digging and said the name of the lake was actually just a bad translation. The Sioux word for it meant 'bad', referring to the high salinity of the lake which made the water undrinkable. It was modern Christians who'd ousted the Indians that had mistakenly called it 'devil's' lake.

Dean flipped the radio on low and almost changed the station but Tom Petty and Free Falling caught him and he ended up humming along, singing the chorus softly and tapping his hands on the steering wheel. The rumble of the engine, the tunes, the lived in leather of the seats, fresh air coming in the open window and his little brother asleep beside him; for a moment Dean could pretend it was ten years ago before Angels and Demons, yearly apocalypse scares and all the losses they'd suffered. He sighed and squeezed the wheel until his knuckles turned white. Dean took a deep breath and let it out, relaxing his grip.

Sam stirred beside him, head rolling restlessly and Dean gave his shoulder a firm shake, hoping to head off the nightmare.

"Huh? Wha?" Sam came awake, eyes blinking and pushed himself up straighter in the seat.

"You know for a college geek, your vocabulary sure suffers when you're sleeping." Dean chuckled.

"Where are we?" Sam rubbed at his eyes and tried to catch at the papers in his lap as they slid to the floor.

"About an hour out." Dean turned the volume on the radio up. "You should go back to sleep."

Sam rolled his eyes at the loud music. "Not with Tom Petty yelling at me about falling."

Dean cranked the radio another notch and used the steering wheel as a drum set, making his brother laugh.

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Devil's Lake, contrary to its name and even at night, looked like any quiet, slowly failing middle America town. There were a few boarded up buildings. As they drove along the lakefront they passed a mostly empty marina and several disused warehouses. The town itself was smallish but big enough to boast two motels. Dean chose the less seedy looking of the two and pulled up in front of the office.

Sam immediately opened his door and got out with a contented moan, stretching his long arms over his head until his back cracked.

Dean got out across from him with a chuckle. "You're scaring the natives, Sasquatch." He nodded to the office where an old woman was looking out at Sam with wide eyes. His little brother rolled his eyes and went into the office. It took only thirty seconds of Sam's puppy dog eyes to have her eating out of his hand, offering extra towels and pillows and as they went back out to the car she promised to bring by her homemade chicken soup as she thought Sam was looking a little 'peeky'.

"What the hell is peeky anyway?" Dean laughed as they got back in the car and went to find their room.

Sam chuckled. "I really don't want to know. I think it's a grandmother thing." Mrs. Olson had commented on her daughters and granddaughters, her mother rest her soul and practically fawned over Sam before handing them their room keys.

"Dude, why do old ladies fall for you? It's the hair isn't it?" Dean asked as he backed up to their door.

"Shut up, jerk." Sam said as he got out again.

"Bitch." Dean called after him with a laugh.

True to her word, they weren't in the room ten minutes before there was a knock at the door. Dean laughed after checking the peephole and opened the door for Mrs. Olson to bustle in with a covered pot.

"I brought enough for you both. Growing boys like you need to eat proper." She smiled at Dean and handed it to Sam. "Now you be sure and eat Sam. Get some color back in those cheeks of yours." When she actually reached up and patted his cheek, Dean dissolved into laughter and did his best to smother it until she left. He closed the door behind her and bent over laughing at the bright red flush on his brothers' face.

"Get a grip." Sam tossed a rude hand gesture at him and a smirk which only made Dean laugh harder and decided to hide in the bathroom til he wound down. "Freakin creepy old ladies." He muttered as he shut the door.

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"Wake up, grandma bait!" Dean slapped at the foot hanging off the end of the bed. "Breakfast!"

Sam groaned and his tousled head emerged from under his pillow. "Not hungry."

"Tough cookies." Dean yanked the butter yellow blanket off of him. "You're gonna eat or I'm telling Mrs. Olson on you."

"I'll kill you." Sam muttered but got out of bed all the same while Dean snorted. "Coffee?" He asked, almost whining and giving a pleading look to Dean.

"It's keeping breakfast company." Dean tossed a shirt into his face. "Go brush your fuzzy teeth and let's go."

"I hate you." Sam groaned. "Morning people are not natural."

"Yeah, yeah. Get movin' if you want that coffee princess." Dean shook his head. Sam could be a real pain first thing in the morning without coffee and he chuckled. He'd missed it. It had been one of the many 'off' things about Sam before they got his soul back. He realized he was spending a lot of time lately listing the things that made his little brother his little brother. He was perilously close to having his own chick flick moment. He scrubbed a hand over his face and laughed at himself.

"Man I need to get laid." He muttered and grabbed his keys, heading outside to start the car.

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Kelly's Diner called to them. The faded brick front and dated sign all screamed old fashion greasy spoon to Dean and he parked in front with a smile. Inside was everything the outside promised; chipped laminate tables and booths, well trafficked wood floor and a jaded, middle aged waitress going from table to table. Sam all but moaned as she passed him with a full pot of coffee.

"You're an addict. You know that right?" Dean chuckled and pushed him toward an empty booth.

"Coffee's a food group." Sam replied with a smirk. He slid into the seat and eagerly grabbed the upside down coffee mug.

"How come when I say that about beer you roll your eyes at me?" Dean pulled a menu from the holder while Sam laughed.

"What can I get you boys?" The waitress stopped at their table and Sam held out his mug with such a pleading look she laughed and filled his cup with the pot she held.

"You'll have to forgive my brother. He's useless without coffee in the morning." Dean pumped up the wattage of his smile and looked up at her. "Me on the other hand, I'm all kinds of awake first thing." She blushed and laughed, turned over his cup and filled it as well. The smile beneath short blonde hair and twinkle in her blue eyes transformed her face and Dean admired the change. His expressive green eyes were turning her knees to jelly.

"I'm Lacey." She blushed prettily when Dean's smile widened.

"What's the story with this portrait?" Sam asked, pointing to the wall above and distracting their waitress from being melted into her shoes by his brother's charms. Above them hung a painting of some sort of short haired Collie. It had the sort of face that made Sam yearn once more for a dog of his own; an old wish he'd never quite grown out of.

"Oh that's Kelly." Lacey grinned. "The original owner, that was her dog. She named the place after him. Said he was a better friend than her husband ever was. She loved that dog."

"That's awesome." Sam said and meant it, ignoring the disgusted look his brother sent him.

Dean smiled up at her again and decided his stomach was done waiting for food. "So, what's the breakfast special today?"

"Steak, eggs and hash." She nodded. "You want it. Cook does an awesome steak."

"Well I'm sold." Dean put the menu away and sat back with his coffee, raising a brow at Sam when he looked about to wave her off.

"Uh…eggs and toast." Sam said, under duress. "Scrambled is fine."

"Coming right up! Back with your food in no time boys." Lacey then made herself even more appealing by leaving the coffee pot on the table for them.

"I don't get how you keep that hulk running when you never stoke the damn furnace." Dean commented and Sam rolled his eyes this time.

"I eat enough."

"Not nearly." Dean countered and smiled at the glare he received.

"If we're done mothering me, how about the case?" Sam refilled his mug and pushed down his irritation at being managed. He knew Dean meant well and what really irritated him was that he was right. He was trying but there were days when he had trouble getting past the things he couldn't remember. He set it aside. "So, the Cailleach."

"That doesn't even sound real dude." Dean shook his head. "Beats calling her the tooth fairy I guess."

Sam laughed. "Yeah let's not do that. Finding her is going to be a problem. No one's seen these things for three centuries. There's not a whole lot on where they like to hole up."

"Victims then." Dean said with surety. "We'll find out where they were taken, where the bodies were found, see if we can find a pattern."

Lacey returned with their breakfasts and Dean had eyes only for the juicy steak leaking red on his plate. Dean sent her a look of lust for the steak and she left with a new stutter in her step.

"You better dial that back or she's gonna faint next time." Sam said with a chuckle and Dean grinned, unrepentant.

"Eat your eggs, geek." Dean ordered and dug into his own steak with gusto and the occasional moan of pleasure. They ate, and Dean bullied Sam into eating most of his eggs.

"You ever start making choo-choo sounds and I'm stealing the car and leaving your ass behind." Sam said with a scowl but laughed. "You pay, I'm gonna grab a paper from the stand outside."

"Stiffing your brother with the bill. I'm gonna remember that." Dean tossed a wadded up napkin at him and followed, stopping at the counter.

Sam strode to the door, energized now he'd filled up on coffee and pushed through the doors and outside. He registered the fact that there were two men arguing just outside the door. He looked up to gauge what was happening when the man closest to him threw his arm pack to launch a punch. His elbow cracked into Sam's forehead like a sledge hammer and took him down seeing stars. He'd barely hit the ground when he heard Dean's voice bellowing and looked groggily around to find Dean's legs in front of his face.

"What the hell?" Dean shouted, slamming through the doors as he'd seen his brother take a sucker shot between the eyes and crash to the ground. He grabbed the idiot responsible and landed a punch of his own to his temple, sending him staggering into the guy he'd been fighting with.

"This aint none of your business!" The other man shouted. Dean glared him into silence and pointed down.

"That's my brother. You made it my business." He took a menacing step forward. "If I were you, I'd get the hell away from me. Now."

"Oh my god!" Lacey had followed Dean and stared down at Sam and then at the other two. "Darryl you and Greg get the hell out of here before I call the Sheriff again."

Dean watched the men pale and step back and decided the danger was past. He turned and dropped to his knees. "Sammy?" He was conscious, mostly though his eyes were rolling around. Dean pushed dark hair off his forehead and saw the bruise already starting to come up over his left eye. "Never even saw that coming did you? Ouch." Dean took Sam behind the shoulders and helped him sit. "Sammy."

"Uh. What hit me?" Sam couldn't seem to get his eyes to focus at the same time and wondered when the Mariachi band had set up in his head.

"About two hundred pounds of stupid." Dean answered and got a grip on his shoulders. "You ready to stand up?"

"Sure." Sam agreed though he wasn't. The ground seemed to be tilting beneath him where he sat.

"I'm so sorry about those two idiots." Lacy knelt by the brothers and gasped at the mark on Sam's forehead. "Should I call the paramedics or something?"

"No, no. He's good." Dean assured her. "It's just a knock on the head. He's had worse." He smiled at her. "He'll be straightened out in no time. Come on little brother." Dean grunted and managed to get Sam standing. He swayed, listing to one side and dropped his head to Dean's shoulder with a moan. "Ok, you gotta do better than that or Lacy here is gonna make you go to the hospital." Dean warned with a smirk. It had the desired effect. Sam got his head up and even made his eyes focus long enough to look at the worried expression on her face.

"Thanks." Sam smiled. "I'll be fine, really."

"If you're sure." Lacy stepped back and watched as Dean led him to their car, opened the door and got him in. Dean came back to her.

"You're not gonna have any trouble with those jackasses cause I punched one of 'em are ya?" He asked and she shook her head with a laugh.

"They're harmless, just stupid." She waved in the direction the men had gone. "Give them an hour and they'll be drinking together again and probably cursing you."

Dean chuckled. "Well you keep that coffee warm. Sammy's gonna need more of it." Dean brushed a hand down her arm, enjoying the resulting blush and smiled broadly. "Catch you later." He went back to the car and was sure he heard a muttered 'you better' as he opened the door and grinned wider.

Sam watched Dean work the waitress and chuckled. The man had a gift that Sam had never quite gotten the hang of, the easy flirting and lascivious looks that made women melt. He pressed a hand to the knot on his head and groaned. The Mariachi band was gearing up for a second set. He wanted a fist full of painkillers and to be horizontal for an hour but they had work to do still. Dean got in beside him and gave him a concerned look.

"Headache?" Dean asked and got a tender nod. "Ok, back to the motel. We'll get some painkillers in you then we gotta change and head over to the PD. You up for it?"

"I will be." Sam assured him, both of his brothers who were both giving amused glances at him as they drove and his head rolled back to the seat.

"Dude, how many of me are you seeing right now?" Dean laughed.

"Two." Sam replied and groaned. "So not fair. Two of you's'not fair. I won't stand a chance." Dean laughed and put a hand on Sam's shoulder, easing him back up straight as he started to tip toward him.

"Yeah he rang your bell but good." Dean pulled into the motel lot with one eye on his brother and parked next to their room. Getting Sam out of the car without him sitting on the pavement took some work and with relief, he got him in the room and lowered him onto the far bed. Sam rolled to his side with a happy groan and just held his pounding head.

"Hang on. Don't drift off on me." Dean told him and went to dig the painkillers out of the first aid kit. He'd scored a bottle of Tylenol three at the last clinic they'd had to stop at and tapped two out. He grabbed a bottle of water from the little fridge and went to sit on the bed next to him. "Come on, tiger."

"Dude. I'm not five." Sam protested weakly and Dean snorted.

"You look it right now. Take these and stop bitchin." Dean helped him sit up enough to swallow the pills and let him lay back down. He reached up and twitched the curtain over the window closed so that no sunlight fell into the room. He knew how it would affect a headache ridden Sam who'd once told him it was like someone driving a nail between his eyes.

"Just gimme an hour." Sam murmured, curling back onto his side, head cradled in his hands. "I'll be good in an hour."

"Yeah, I know you will." Dean said softly as Sam's breathing eased into sleep. He sat on his own bed and picked up the remote, turning on the little tv with the volume down and hunted for something to keep him company while he watched over his little brother.

_**-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-**_

She was not limited to the night like the weaker creatures of Faerie. She sneered at them, all those Boggarts and hags, Rawheads and Red Caps, they were nothing to her. She was power and grace and age and wisdom…and hunger. The tendrils of her magic seeped out once more across the lake beneath the strengthening sun of the clear morning, touching the docks and the streets, lingering briefly on each soul she passed, into the town, through buildings and homes, schools and bars. Each beat of a heart that came to her ears was a pulse along the thread of her power, calling, calling but not the beat she wanted. She sent her magic further, strengthening its form as it flowed from her and across the humans as they went blithely, blindly about their lives. Further she ranged, wider it spread, seeking and searching and finally…there. She gasped in a breath at the taste of him, of his soul and narrowed her focus. There was the one who had made her salivate when his energy had crossed her path. She reached for him, invisible fingers reaching, seeking, finding his sleeping mind. She reached for him, his dreams opening before her, almost…almost…she hissed in anger as her prize was ripped from her, woken without warning, her magic flinging back across the lake and into her like a whip. "Mine." She growled but she was no child for fits of temper. She swallowed her disappointment. There would be another time. He would have to sleep again and then she would have him.

_**-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-**_

"Wake up, Sammy." Dean gave his brother's shoulder a rough shake.

Sam jerked awake on the edge of a bad, formless dream that had almost sucked him under and looked up at Dean with relief. "I'm up." His head ached but nowhere as badly as it had when he'd lain down. "How long was I out?"

"Two hours." Dean grinned. "Gave you an extra so get up and let's get cooking." Truthfully, he'd planned on letting Sam sleep himself out but when he'd started to twitch and moan with the beginning of a nightmare he'd given up on that and woken him. "Time's a'wasting little brother."


	3. Chapter 3

**Title:** Who believes in the Tooth Fairy?

**Author**: Disasteriffic Kaz

**Info:** Set mid-season 6 post 6x14 Mannequin 3: The Reckoning. A stand-alone hunt. Some hurt!sam with a sprinkling of hurt!dean and a dash of that Winchester angst/comfort we all love so much.

**Author's note: **Okay now things get interesting. A bit of mayhem and me working out a big of today's frustrations on the boys. Hope they still love me when I'm done!**  
><strong>

**Do please Review once you've read. :D Every comment and vote of support helps keep me writing. Not to mention if I've pooched anything, someone can always tell me. :P**

_**-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-**_

_Further she ranged, wider it spread, seeking and searching and finally…there. She gasped in a breath at the taste of him, of his soul and narrowed her focus. There was the one who had made her salivate when his energy had crossed her path. She reached for him, invisible fingers reaching, seeking, finding his sleeping mind. She reached for him, his dreams opening before her, almost…almost…she hissed in anger as her prize was ripped from her, woken without warning, her magic flinging back across the lake and into her like a whip. "Mine." She growled but she was no child for fits of temper. She swallowed her disappointment. There would be another time. He would have to sleep again and then she would have him._

**CHAPTER 3**

"Not much of a cop shop." Sam commented as he and Dean stepped into the Devil's Lake police station. The bull pen was small, only a half dozen desks, a counter that had seen better days and a small hall that presumably led to offices and the cells. A balding Sargent stood at the counter and watched them enter with one brow in the air. The boys walked confidently up to him, dressed in their suits and false FBI badges at the ready.

"Agent Lattimer." Dean held up his badge. "My partner, Agent Bering. We need to see the Chief."

The Sargent studied the badges for a moment and then nodded. "I'll get him. Wait here."

Sam waited until he'd gone down the hall and turned the corner before punching his brother in the shoulder. "Dude. You gave me the girls name?" Sam growled.

Dean chuckled and shrugged. "Next time I ask if you wanna do ID's, don't go back to sleep."

"You. Suck." Sam tucked the badge in his pocket, disgusted and ignoring the self-satisfied smirk on Dean's face.

The Sargent returned with the Police Chief on his heels; an older man with slicked back silver hair and thick glasses over grey eyes.

"Agents. I'm Chief Michaels." He shook their hands over the counter. "What can I do for you?"

"We're here about the murders." Sam started. "We'd like to see your files and any other information you have."

"Huh." Chief Michaels scratched his head. "Well I can tell you what I know. Take me til tomorrow to get you copies of the files though."

"Seriously?" Dean asked, surprised and unimpressed.

"Well we sent them over to the town hall to get them put in the computers." He smiled. "We don't really do computers around here yet." His Sargent rolled his eyes heavenward behind him.

"Right." Dean drawled. "What _can_ you tell us then?"

"Let's see. All four were single, lived alone, no families. The three bodies we do have, they were hauled out of the lake." The Chief sighed sadly. "We're still looking for the last guy; Jeremiah Gordon. His employer reported him missing when he didn't show up for work. Apparently that never happens ever."

"We're they all found in the same area of the lake?" Sam asked, scribbling the information down in his notebook.

"No, no. Two of them turned up on the east side of the lake and the last floated up in the Marina." He shrugged. "Can't make heads or tails of all this myself."

"Shocking." Dean deadpanned and smiled when Sam kicked his foot.

"Shocking, yes it is." The Chief said, completely missing the sarcasm and forcing his Sargent into another eyeroll. "Well I'll just leave you boys to it. Federal Agents and all, I'm sure you'll have it figured in no time." The Chief left to wander back to his office and the Sargent snorted loudly.

"He's not the brightest bulb in the box I know." He held out a hand to Dean. "Sargent McMurray. Next time you need something, ask me first."

Dean laughed and shook his hand gratefully. "Will do, Sarge. Thanks."

Outside, Dean leaned across the roof of the Impala. "What do you think? Have a look round the lake?" It was still early afternoon, plenty of time before night fell and made things more interesting.

"Yeah. Not much else we can do until we get those files." Sam shook his head. "'Don't really do computers'. Wow. The Twenty-first century just missed him didn't it?"

"How's your head?" Dean asked and fixed his brother with a fierce stare. "And don't give me any crap. It's bright as hell out here today."

"It's fine." Sam said and waved him off. "I'm fine."

"Yeah well, do me and your just fine head a favor and dig the sunglasses out of the glove box." Dean smiled at the irritation plain on Sam's face and got in the car.

Sam sighed. The sun _was_ out and gleaming happily today. Normally it would have put a smile on Sam's face but today it was just making his head hurt. He had a mild concussion from the morning's incident but he knew, whatever Dean thought, it was nothing he couldn't handle. He folded himself into the front seat and dutifully dug out the glasses.

_**-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-**_

Devil's Lake looked even less devilish by day than it had by night. The waters were dark and serene, lapping gently at the pilings of the marina. The clouds reflected in the water with the mountains behind them created a mirror effect and the flock of geese flying over top gave the whole thing a postcard effect.

"Gotta be a reason evil Fairy's dropping her leftovers in the lake." Dean commented.

"Well my guess would be convenience." Sam shrugged. "She's got to be somewhere near the lake."

"Let's get looking then." Dean headed out to the first row of little cottages, all situated out over the water on piers. Most of them looked to have been abandoned for a long time. Webs swung and shifted from every corner and in some places hung down into the water below. The paint was chipped and flaking and boarded over windows plentiful.

Sam shouldered open the door of the first and shone a flashlight inside. It was a single room and bare of any furnishings. "I can't see her holing up in one of these." He said and followed Dean to the next. "Too easy to get caught here. I mean, one of your victims screams and you risk some passing local hearing it and bringing Barney Fife down on you."

"Yeah I think you're right. Ok, we'll start outside town. Saw some likely places when we came in." Dean started back to the car with a sidelong glance at Sam. He was rubbing his forehead, eyes squinted shut behind the glasses. Dean shook his head. Some things, it seemed, would never change like his brother's habit of hiding his hurts and pains until he fell over. Well, he'd just have to keep a close eye on him. "Come on, Sammy. Pick up those mutant feet of yours."

_**-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-**_

Sam squinted out the passenger window at the lake as they drove along the shore. They'd been round the west side of the lake. They were having a look at the east side now as afternoon turned to evening. The sun was lowering but had yet to drop behind the hills. It was shining straight into his head he thought, as if alive and determined to make him as uncomfortable as possible. People were dead and a man was missing. They didn't have time to mollycoddle a headache.

"That's a likely spot." Dean pointed ahead of them, down on the shore. There was a ramshackle looking storage house with a domed roof and short pier extending out onto the water. Dean rolled up alongside the house and stopped in its shadow. He heard a soft sigh of relief from the passenger seat and smirked. Sam wasn't pulling anything over on him. "Tylenol's in the glove box you know."

Sam sighed. "It's just a headache, Dean."

"Uh huh. So all that bobbing and weaving you did walking back to the car before, that was what? A new dance move? The sasquatch rhumba?" He laughed and ducked out of the car when Sam threw an elbow at him.

"You're not funny." Sam told him when he got out and would have rolled his eyes if wasn't sure it'd hurt. "I'll check the shed."

"I'm hilarious and _we'll_ check it." Dean pulled out his flashlight and the handgun at his waist. He led the way to the off-center door facing the lake, Sam at his side and kicked it open. It thunked inward against the side wall and dropped off one hinge. "Oops."

"You're a menace." Sam chuckled and shone his own light into the dim, dusty interior. There were workbenches against one wall, a thick layer of dust over everything and cobwebs dangling from the beams in the arched ceiling like Spanish moss.

"You look for clues, Scooby. I'll check the pier." Dean grinned and stepped back out in the sun.

"I swear I'm getting him dog food for Christmas." Sam muttered and stepped further into the dim interior. If anyone had been there before them, it had been far too long ago. The only prints on the dusty floor were his as he made them. He looked out through the door and saw Dean kneeling by the edge of the pier. The ringing of his cell startled him. He pulled it out with a half laugh and smiled when he saw the caller.

"Hey, Bobby." Sam answered.

"Sam! Tell Dean to check the battery on his damn phone." Bobby growled. "I was about to drive up there. I found some more lore on your Faerie. She can call the little folk of the water."

"The what?" Sam went to the door, standing just inside and out of the sun where he could see Dean.

"I can't pronounce the damn name." Bobby said and sounded to be rifling through papers. "Basically they're male water faeries. Nasty little buggers. They're small, but strong and mean tempered. You and Dean stay the hell away from that lake until you find her."

"Shit." Sam lowered the phone and stepped outside. "DEAN!" he shouted.

_**-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-**_

Dean was examining odd scratch marks in the wood of the pier. Something had definitely been dragged over it recently. He stepped out onto the wooded planks and followed the marks. He was bending for a closer look when he heard Sam call his name. He stood and looked. Sam stood just outside the door of the shack, phone in his hand and was waving him in.

"What's up?" Dean called. He took a step toward land and then froze as something grabbed his brother from behind and pulled him back inside the shack. "SAM!" Before he could run to him, something grabbed Dean's own feet and he had only time to curse before his face was planted into the rotting wood.

_**-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-**_

Sam gasped when he felt small hands take hold of his arms and jerk him back inside the shack. He was tossed into the back wall with force, rattling the entire building and sending dust and webs sifting down on his head. His light dropped to roll away on the floor and briefly caught something small as it flitted through the air. He pulled the gun from the back of his pants and dove across the floor for his light. It was launched at his face. Sam managed to get an arm up and grunted with the hard impact of plastic on bone.

"You little bastard." Sam growled and went for the light again. He got it and shone it round the room, looking for the water faerie. He could hear it fluttering about but couldn't tell where the sound was coming from. "Son of a bitch!" He shouted, feeling teeth latch on to his shoulder blade. He dropped his light again and reached over his shoulder, grabbing hold of something wet, slick and struggling. He pulled it round and slammed it into a workbench hard enough to buckle one of the legs. He held it in place in the semi dark, the ambient light from his flash light showing him a dim figure and brought his gun up, placing it against the creature. Sam moved his hand and fired simultaneously. There was a satisfying splat and then silence.

He ran to the door and threw it open. "Dean!" Sam saw with horror his brother's limp body being dragged over the side of the pier. "NO!" He sprinted to the pier and dove into the chilled waters as Dean's head sank out of sight. The salty water stung in the wounds on his back as he kicked for the shadow he knew to be his brother. Sam reached out and caught hold of one of Dean's arms. Instantly there was a small, green haired creature hissing bubbles at him.

Sam had kept his gun and shot the thing, sending it tumbling away into the water. He tugged Dean to him and pushed hard for the surface. They broke into the air, Sam gasping for breath and swam quickly for the shore, refusing to let go his gun or his brother should more of the things show up. "Dean!" He yelled in his brother's ear, hoping for a response and getting nothing.

His head pounding, shoulder burning, Sam pulled them both out of the water and laid Dean out in the still sun warmed sand. "Dean! Don't you do this." He wasn't breathing and a gash on his forehead was turning half his face red with blood. Sam pressed hard on his sternum once and again and a third time and sobbed in relief when water spewed from his brothers mouth. "That's it, Dean." Sam rolled him to his side and held him while he cleared his lungs.

When the heaving stopped, Sam rolled him back into his lap, propping his head up in the crook of his elbow. "Dean?" Sam gave him a light shake. "Dean, you have to wake up." Dean's eyes remained stubbornly closed. "Dammit, Dean." Sam jerked his head up at the sound of rushing water. Foam was appearing on the surface of the lake around the pier. "Hope your head can take this."

Sam stood, pulling Dean up with him and got him up in a fireman's carry, head dangling behind him. He swallowed a cry when his head banged into the wound on his back and wobbled them both back to the car. He set Dean down on his feet and stood him up against the car, using his own body to keep him standing and fought to get the door open. A look over his shoulder showed several small heads were now floating on the surface of the lake.

"Not good." Sam gasped. He manhandled Dean into the passenger seat and ran around the other side, sliding behind the wheel. "Dammit!" Sam dug quickly through Dean's pockets for the keys. "Sorry, bro. Nothing personal." He yanked the keys out of Dean's front pocket and slammed them home in the ignition, revving the engine and peeled away from the shack, the pier and the dozen or so little Faeries that were coming toward the shore.

The sun slid behind the mountains finally as Sam sped away from the lake and back toward town. He had one hand clasped to the front of his brother's shoulder, reassured by the steady rise and fall of his chest beneath his hand. "You're gonna be pissed when you see how much water we just dumped in here." Sam said with a giddy laugh. They were both sopping, puddles of water pooling at their feet and on the bench seat.

"Guh." Dean moaned.

"Dean?" Sam gave him a gentle shake. "You with me?"

"Sammy?" Dean's head dropped forward and then jerked back up, eyes shooting open. "Sammy! Look out!"

Sam chuckled. "Yeah a little late there but thanks."

"Wha' the hell happened?" Dean slurred and raised a shaking hand to his head. "Oh hell." He came away with blood.

"Little midget male water faeries." Sam said and groaned. "Wish Bobby'd called a little sooner with that warning."

"Bobby?" Dean was struggling to rein in his scattering thoughts. "Did we talk to Bobby?"

"I did. He called right before they jumped us." Sam groaned and slapped a hand on the wheel. "Dammit! My cell's still in that damn shack!"

"Not goin' back for it." Dean said and brushed at Sam's hand on his chest. "Dude, gerroff."

"Just put your head back, Dean." Sam said and watched, worried as Dean's speech was still slurred, his eyes still crossing. "You took a really bad hit to the head. Maybe we should go to a hospital."

"Nuh-uh." Dean shook his head and then stopped, regretting the movement. "We're good. Motel." He looked over to see Sam staring at him in disbelief. "Seriously, little brother. I'm ok. Just clean me up and roll me in bed." Dean dropped his head back onto the seat and moaned. "And a bottle of whiskey."

Sam snorted and eased off the gas as they neared the edge of town. "No whiskey. You're bleeding idiot." Dean grunted something in response and drifted off again.

_**-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-**_

Sam tied off the last stitch in Dean's forehead with a sigh of relief. Dean had remained blissfully asleep through all five of them. He fixed a bandage over the wound and tugged the sheet up to his shoulders, giving him a pat on the chest. As disoriented as Dean had been in the car, his head had slowly cleared by the time Sam got him back to the room and his eyes were normal. Other than a few claw marks on his legs, the head wound was the worst he'd come away with. It was a minor miracle.

Sam stood and stretched and instantly regretted it. The bite marks on his shoulder blade protested the movement and he hunched, trying to lessen the pain. He went into the bathroom, stripping off his still damp clothes and tried to get a look at it in the mirror.

"Crap." His back was a mess of purpling bruises from his impact with the shack wall and the bite was actually several small bites all clustered together on his left shoulder blade. He'd never be able to reach them to clean and bandage them. He went back out and looked at Dean, dismissing the idea of waking him. What Dean needed now was sleep. They could fix up his back in the morning. Sam pulled a pair of sweats from his bag and slipped them on before crawling into his bed on his stomach. He buried his face in the pillow and reached one arm out to turn off the light before falling easily into sleep.

Sam's fitful dream of the afternoon, quickly turned to a nightmare where Dean was pulled just out of his grasp beneath the water, eyes wide and beseeching his little brother to save him. That vision gave way to one he'd thought he'd long laid to rest. He found himself laying back on a familiar bed, the taste of chocolate chips in his mouth. Even as he relaxed he felt panic and terror build in his chest, sure of what he would see when he opened his eyes. He fought opening them but in the end had no choice and was met with the nightmare of his Jess upon the ceiling. He wanted to scream, to call out but a weight had settled across his chest, stealing his breath.

The pressure increased, the nightmare shifted and he was standing in an empty room, before him stood a wall, an impossibly tall wall. Fire and ice licked up the outside of the wall, dancing around each other. Sam backed away from it, unsure why but he knew that this wall was to be left alone. He tried to call out for his brother but his breath was stranded in his chest, refusing him release. His eyes widened in horror when the wall before him bowed outward as if something inside was seeking release. He shook his head as the flames and ice inched out across the floor toward him, licking at his toes. Chains erupted from out of the darkness above him, diving in to wrap around him, his chest, his neck, pulling him upward. Panic and abject terror overwhelmed him. He could feel tears coursing down his face. He fought to make a sound, any sound, to say his brother's name. He felt as though his heart were near bursting and finally, against the iron bands around him, he managed to squeeze out one small breath.

"Dean!"

Sam jerked awake, rolling from his bed and onto the floor with a thump, gasping for breath as though he hadn't breathed in years. "God!" He gasped and reached up to turn the light on beside the bed. Dean still slept soundly. Sam pulled himself back up to his bed, sitting on the side and tried to steady his frantic breathing. He was still gasping, panting air into his starved lungs. He looked down at his pillow and saw the imprint of his face. He gave a nervous laugh, rubbing shaking hands through his sweat damp hair. He must have fallen asleep on his stomach, his face turned in to the pillow. He'd suffocated himself. His whole body trembled as a fragment of the nightmare came back to him, of a wall and chains. He lurched to his feet and into the bathroom, suddenly loathe to be anywhere near his bed.

_**-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-**_

"Miiiiiine." She breathed along the night air, savoring the first taste of his soul on her tongue. His nightmares were nectar, exciting her and the fear so easily brought to life within his mind would make his blood taste all the sweeter. She pulled back the tendril of her magic reluctantly. He was hers now. She had marked him. When he slept again, she would taste him again, strengthen the fear, sow discord in his thoughts. He would be a meal she would not soon forget.


	4. Chapter 4

**Title:** Who believes in the Tooth Fairy?

**Author**: Disasteriffic Kaz

**Info:** Set mid-season 6 post 6x14 Mannequin 3: The Reckoning. A stand-alone hunt. Some hurt!sam with a sprinkling of hurt!dean and a dash of that Winchester angst/comfort we all love so much.

**Author's note: **_Hope I don't get too macabre for anyone. :P I'm indulging my love of darker writing here. Gothic fiction is typically my thing, so fair warning. lol_ **  
><strong>

**Do please Review once you've read. :D Every comment and vote of support helps keep me writing. Not to mention if I've pooched anything, someone can always tell me. :P**

_**-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-**_

_He must have fallen asleep on his stomach, his face turned in to the pillow. He'd suffocated himself. His whole body trembled as a fragment of the nightmare came back to him, of a wall and chains. He lurched to his feet and into the bathroom, suddenly loathe to be anywhere near his bed._

_-0-0-_

_"Miiiiiine." She breathed along the night air, savoring the first taste of his soul on her tongue. His nightmares were nectar, exciting her and the fear so easily brought to life within his mind would make his blood taste all the sweeter. She pulled back the tendril of her magic reluctantly. He was hers now. She had marked him. When he slept again, she would taste him again, strengthen the fear, sow discord in his thoughts. He would be a meal she would not soon forget._

**CHAPTER 4 **

Sam heaved a last time over the toilet and dropped his head to his forearm, spent. Sleep nagged at him and he shook his head. He was definitely not ready to risk another pain and fever dream like the last. He needed to check on Dean's concussion anyway. He flushed the toilet and stood on trembling legs to rinse his mouth out at the sink. He turned to see his back in the mirror again while the taste of mouthwash helped wake his groggy mind and groaned.

"Dean's gonna kill me." Sam said around the mouthwash and spit it out. The bites were still slowly seeping blood and his back resembled a dark starburst of bruises painted in patches of flaking and glistening red. How he hadn't felt that while bent over the toilet he'd never know. He shucked off his sweats, wrinkling his nose at the back of the waistband now stained dark red and turned on the shower.

Sam stepped out of the bathroom, steam curling out into the room, clutching a towel around his waist and went to his bag to find his other jeans. Dean snored softly while he pulled them on. Sam sighed, remembering that moment of fear as Dean had been pulled into the water and shook himself, hissing when his back yelled at him. Dean was safe. They were safe. Sam went to the little fridge and knelt carefully, trying to spare his back and pulled out a bottle of water.

"Holy shit, Sam!" Dean's explosive comment made him jump and groan. "Why didn't you tell me?"

"Crap." Sam closed his eyes, resigned to the coming tirade and turned to find Dean kicking his blankets off.

"What's wrong with you?" Dean swayed for a second, righting himself quickly and stalked to his little brother, grabbing his arm. "Get your ass on the bed. What's wrong with you? Stubborn, pig-headed, stupid…you should have let me take care of this earlier!" Dean shoved him onto his bed and glared.

"Dean it's not that…" Sam started and Dean's face darkened, cutting him off.

"Not that bad? You could have bled to death! What if those little bastards had poison bites?" Dean threw his hands up in exasperation. "That even occur to you?" The way Sam's face paled told him it hadn't. "For someone so smart you can be damn stupid sometimes. Lay down." Dean grabbed the first aid kit from the nightstand where Sam had left it then, thinking dark thoughts, he went and pulled a flask of holy water from their bag.

Sam watched him with raised brows. "Holy water? It's a Faerie, not a vampire bite."

"And?" Dean pushed on his shoulder until Sam complied and rolled to his stomach. "We don't know what kind of creepy shit those things are carrying." He worked hard at swallowing the fear that had choked him when he'd woken to see Sam's multi-hued and bloody back staring at him. "Bites are still bleeding and they shouldn't be." He uncorked the flask and held it over Sam's shoulder blade, pouring a steady stream into the oozing wounds. Sam hissed, then cried out and tried to curl into a ball. Dean held him down with his other arm on the small of his back. "Hang on, Sammy." He'd been afraid of that and hissed in sympathy while Sam writhed, trying to escape the white hot pain drilling into his back.

The holy water bubbled and spat in the wounds as Dean poured. Finally it subsided and the water flowed clear and quiet, Sam going limp into the mattress and panting. "Shit." Sam expelled weakly.

"Peroxide this time." Dean warned him as he swapped the flask for a brown bottle. Sam nodded silently into the pillow, too spent to speak. He barely twitched as Dean cleaned the wounds again. Both men jumped at the sudden pounding on their room door. "Stay here." Dean told him. He reached under his own pillow and grabbed his gun, moving quickly to the door but keeping himself between it and Sam. "I said stay there!" Dean hissed when his brother tried to rise. He checked out the peephole and cussed. "Um, Sam, you ever remember to call Bobby back and tell him we were still alive?"

"Huh?" Sam asked and his eyes widened in horror as Dean opened the door and the grizzled old Hunter pushed into the room. "Oh god, Bobby! I'm so sorry!" Sam did struggle to push himself up now in spite of a back that had gone suddenly boneless with pain.

"Oughta turn both you boys over my damn knee and take a belt to ya!" Bobby shouted and kicked the room door shut. "You know how many laws I broke getting up here? You can't answer a damn phone?"

"Uh, mine took a swim." Dean said sheepishly, rubbing a hand through his spiky hair. "And Sam's got left behind."

"Idjits!" Bobby tossed the bag he carried onto Dean's bed and took a moment to just look at his boys. Dean sported a bandage across his forehead and Sam looked as though he'd gone two rounds with a werewolf and lost. "What the hell happened? Last thing I heard was Sam shouting for you." Bobby took Dean's jaw in his hand and turned his head, lifting up the edge of the bandage for a better look. Dean submitted to the fatherly touch with a sigh.

"We got creamed by midget Faeries." Dean said and snorted in disgust.

"You'll live." Bobby said gruffly, relief stealing his voice and clapped a hand to the older Winchester's shoulder before turning to the younger. Sam had given up trying to right himself and was laying on his stomach again, eyes closed and squinted in discomfort. "Damn boy, don't do anything by halves do you?" Bobby said to him and shook his head. Dean sat next to his brother again as Bobby bent for a closer look at the cluster of small wounds, obviously bite marks and whistled. "Little bastard was trying to get a chunk out of ya."

"Nearly did." Dean nodded and took the bandage Bobby handed him.

"You clean those with holy water?" Bobby asked and chuckled at the explosive 'yes' from Sam. "Serves you right. Leavin' me wondering if you boys were alive or dead for half the night." Bobby cuffed the back of Sam's head affectionately. "Next time you call me, boy."

"Sorry, Bobby." Sam groaned into the pillow. "Seriously. I'm sorry."

"Alright, son." Bobby patted the back of his head this time and sat on the other bed while Dean covered the bite marks and taped the bandage in place.

Dean surveyed the motley patchwork of bruises and sighed. "How sore are you, Sammy?" They were bad enough, plentiful enough, he was going to have to check for bruised or cracked ribs and Sam wasn't going to like it.

"It's manageable." Sam replied and cursed loudly when Dean pressed a single finger into his back.

"Yeah I can see that. I gotta check." Dean told him and took the long suffering groan as acceptance.

"Painkillers?" Bobby asked.

"Glove box in the car." Dean told him. "Sam took a shot in the head from an idiot local this morning. Knocked him cold."

"Did not." Sam argued.

"May as well have." Dean slapped his good shoulder. "Now shut up and let me do this." Bobby stepped outside while Dean ran careful, gentle hands up one side of Sam's back and down the other, feeling along each rib from one side to the other for any movement or breaks. Sam came near whimpering into his pillow and heaved a relieved breath when Dean finished. "Nothing broken but you definitely got dented. What'd you hit?"

"Threw me into the wall." Sam turned his head to see Bobby come back in and wiped at the sweat coating his brow. "So I splattered him onto it." He said with relish. Dean chuckled.

"That's my boy." Dean rose and grabbed the water bottle Sam had left on the table and Bobby handed him the pill bottle.

"Better get him to eat something before he takes these." Bobby warned. "Or they'll knock him out."

Sam shivered, absolutely not wanting to be forced into sleep after the nightmare's he'd had. "There's soup in the fridge." He made himself roll to his side and toss his legs to the floor, using the move to help pull him upright. He couldn't swallow the moan and latched on to the hand Bobby put on his shoulder to support himself. "Son of a bitch."

Dean was laughing. "Mrs. Olson's homemade soup. Forgot all about that." He took out the little pot and put it in the microwave to warm while Bobby helped Sam get a clean shirt on. He took a coffee spoon and one of the plastic hotel cups when the microwave dinged and spooned out some of the soup. He had to admit, it did look damn good. He took a bite and nodded happily, bringing it to Sam. "She's creepy man, but damn she can cook. This is awesome." He handed it to Sam. "Wonder if she makes pie."

Sam took an experimental spoonful and sighed in appreciation. It was heavy on the herbs and spices and the broth soothed his throat and his nerves, making him smile. "Ok, maybe she's not so creepy after all." He laughed.

"How about you boys fill me in on exactly what you've been up to." Bobby, never one to miss a chance at good food, went and filled a cup for himself while the boys took turns filling in the details.

_**-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-**_

Sam sat awkwardly, arms resting on the back of a chair trying to relieve his increasingly aching back. The Tylenol had helped a little but he figured he was going to be miserable for a few days.

"It's eight in the morning. Think Sheriff Opie's in the office yet?" Dean wondered.

"I'll go in for the files." Sam smirked. "If you go, someone's gonna wonder about your face."

"Dude, you can't stand up straight." Dean argued. "How's that not gonna raise any eyebrows?"

"You're both stayin' here. I'll go." Bobby told them in no uncertain terms. "You boys get rested up."

"Ask for Sargent McMurray." Dean told him and stretched out on his bed. "The Chief's useless. Tell him Lattimer and Bering sent you."

Bobby raised a brow and snorted, looking at Sam. "Let me guess…you're Bering."

"I really hate you." Sam glared at Dean making him throw his head back and laugh.

Bobby left and Dean studied his brother, chuckling still and then frowned, seeing signs in his face and around his eyes that he should have seen earlier. Normally he'd have let it go but they were hunting a monster that could invade dreams.

"You had a nightmare." Dean declared, not needing more confirmation than the surprised look on Sam's face. "Spill it, little brother."

"It was just a nightmare." Sam shrugged and hissed, the movement ramping up his pain level.

"This thing can send nightmares, Sammy." Dean glared at him. "Now is _not_ the time to go all Winchester stoic and hide stuff from me."

Sam sighed. "Fine. I had a nightmare."

Dean threw his hands out in exasperation. "Oh well that clears things right up. You wanna be a bit more specific? Anything unusual we should know about?"

"No." Sam replied automatically and then frowned. The image of the fire and ice wreathed wall came back to him. The wall had bowed outward to him. Flames had crawled toward him, ice creeping to his toes. Chains flew down from above to wrap around his chest, his neck, cutting off his air…

"Sammy!" Dean's shout roused him. Sam blinked his eyes to find himself on the floor, Dean's arms around him. "Come on, Sammy." Dean said, pleading while hopelessness danced across his face.

"Dean." Sam gasped.

"Shit." Dean dropped his head to Sam's for a moment and swallowed thickly. He didn't need Sam to tell him what the nightmare had been now. He'd seen this before. Dean took a deep breath, settling himself and helped Sam back to the chair he'd fallen out of. "Don't give me any of your crap, Sammy." He said fiercely and kept both hands on Sam's shoulders when he bent forward, burying his face in his hands. "That bitch got to you last night. She took a swing at the great wall of Sam."

Sam nodded and sat up on his own, shaken. "So used to having them I never thought…" He scrubbed his hands over his face. "Jesus, how screwed up _am_ I?" Sam asked on a short, slightly frantic laugh.

"No comment." Dean paced back to his bed and sat, watching Sam and controlling the rage with effort. Self-control had never been his thing when his little brother was in danger, less so now he thought. The precarious nature of the wall in Sam's head was something he had trouble even thinking about. How easily it could come tumbling down and he'd lose him forever.

"I'm okay, Dean." Sam said quietly and it was enough to send Dean striding across the room to punch the wall.

"Bullshit!" Dean ground the heels of his hands into his eyes, searching for control. "That bitch is trying to break down the damn wall and you _know_ what happens then!"

"It's not going to happen." Sam said as much for his benefit as his brothers'. "Because I'm not sleeping until this is over." He worked up a grin for Dean. "Hell if I'm letting that evil bitch take one of my teeth."

Dean snorted in spite of the fear and ran his hands through his hair. "Might do that face of yours a favor."

"Bite me." Sam tossed back and sighed in relief when Bobby returned. The older man stepped into the room and had a good look at his boys.

"What's goin' on?" Bobby demanded. It was clear something had happened. Though they were both smiling when he came in, he knew them too well.

"She got into his dreams, Bobby." Dean answered and just like that, the humor was gone and the anger back.

"Balls." Bobby dropped the files he'd brought on the table and swiped a hand under his ball cap. "You sure?"

"Of course I'm sure!" Dean said angrily and then gave an apologetic glance to him. "Sorry."

"Why me?" Sam asked, suddenly needing to know.

"Ah well." Bobby sat and tapped the file. "You got somethin' in common with her other victims."

"What?" Sam took the file and opened it, glancing at the first page.

"Death experience." Bobby sighed. "All four victims had near death experiences at one point or another and what happened to you? Well if that don't qualify I don't know what does."

"Wait, wait." Dean interrupted. "If that's her criteria then why didn't she come after me?" He'd have preferred that, welcomed it even.

"Where's the weapons bag?" Bobby asked instead.

"Weapons? Under the damn bed. Why?" Dean pointed to the bed closest to the door.

"Your bed." Bobby nodded. "You been sleeping over the wrought iron rounds."

"Son of a bitch." Dean cursed. Stupid blind luck had made his brother a target once again.

"So, we just put some under my bed and she can't get to me." Sam said and frowned when Bobby shook his head. "Why not?"

"Aint gonna do you no good now she's got her hooks into you." Bobby said angrily. "You're not sleepin' til we get this bitch, Sam."

_**-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-**_

Jeremiah Gordon's eyes stared sightless, the dried tracks of tears lining his ghostly, white face. The steady drip-drip of blood was slowing. She ran her tongue lovingly over the long, shallow slice along his shoulder, savoring each remaining drop of fear laden blood. She hummed softly and the flutter of wings erupted around her, waking from their feasting on the quickly cooling body.

"Take him my lovelies." She breathed in the briny scent as damp wings feathered across her. "Another is coming soon. Soon." She whispered as Jeremiah was released from his bonds, caught by myriad tiny hands and watched as he gracefully floated away like a macabre puppet on invisible strings in a cloud of sea green wings.

Soon she would have her prize. Even now, though he was awake she could taste his fear. She had touched something in him; something hidden and strong and dark that locked away such feasting. She shivered with anticipation. She would break down that surprising wall. When she held him finally in her arms, tasted him finally like a sweet nectar, she would break it down and feed.

_**-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-**_

Sam blew steam from what must be his tenth cup of coffee. It was late afternoon and they'd spent all day closeted in the local library searching maps and surveyors records long since out of date in an attempt to find the lair of their evil tooth fairy. He chuckled softly. He still couldn't get past the fact they were hunting that particular legend.

"Share with the class." Dean kicked the leg of his brothers' chair. "What's funny?"

"Other than your hair?" Sam deadpanned, face innocent and managed to duck the empty coffee cup that came flying at him.

"Chicks dig my hair." Dean grinned, running a hand through the short, dirty blonde locks. "You're just jealous, Cousin It."

Sam laughed and pushed the map he was looking at over to Dean. "Found another likely location." He tapped a spot on the far side of the lake from town. "According to this, there's an old cave system there. Doesn't go very deep but it's abandoned, out of the way and right on the shore." He looked up to Dean with a smirk. "You'd practically have to swim to get into it."

"Oh goody." Dean said, disgusted and definitely not in the mood for another swim in Devil's Lake. "That water tastes like ass."

Sam chuckled and looked around. "Where'd Bobby get to?"

"Looking up the Deed on that house you found earlier." Dean tapped Sam's coffee cup. "Drink up. I'll go find him."

Sam sipped at the coffee. Exhaustion pulled at him even as caffeine sang through his system. He wanted nothing more than to sleep for a week. It was funny how you could suddenly crave something knowing you couldn't have it. He leaned forward and rested his head on the table, trying to relieve some of the tension in his throbbing back muscles. The bruising over his ribs added pressure that made it hard to take a deep breath.

"I hate Faeries." Sam moaned.

"That's not very nice." The soft, feminine voice startled Sam. He jerked upright and stared. Standing atop the table was a young woman. She was very short, no more than five feet. Midnight black hair cascaded down around her shoulders and bare arms. She wore a filmy gray shift that hugged every curve and her eyes were pools of solid blue that seemed to glow with their own light above full, ruby red lips.

Sam opened his mouth to shout for his brother and found his voice trapped in his chest. She raised a delicate hand and slowly wagged a playful finger at him. He prayed that Dean would come back, just look back and see her. Sam's fear level rose when he realized he could no longer move. He watched, helpless as she took three graceful, barefooted steps across the table and knelt before him. She swung her legs out to dangle on either side of his own, brushing against his thighs.

She leaned forward and took his face lovingly in her hands. "Relax my sweet." She nuzzled one feather soft cheek against his own. He tried to pull away to no effect. "Relax and fear me." Her voice breathed in his ear, making him shudder. "I shall release you once more. One more night you shall have before I have you." She trailed a hand down his chest.

Sam felt the fabric of his shirt tug and then the cool breath of air across his chest. She pushed the remnants of his shirt aside. "I give you a token to think of me this night." He felt her hand on his chest again and choked on a scream as pain followed the slow path of her finger stroking down his skin from neck to just below his ribs. Terror was choking him, his breath stopped beneath the pressure that would not ease and he longed to scream once more as her head dropped to his chest and licked a long line of fire up the open wound he could feel bleeding. Her alabaster carved face rose into view, a drop of his blood trembling on her parted lips and she bent to him, caressing his face. "You taste…remarkable." and she kissed him.


	5. Chapter 5

**Title:** Who believes in the Tooth Fairy?

**Author**: Disasteriffic Kaz

**Info:** Set mid-season 6 post 6x14 Mannequin 3: The Reckoning. A stand-alone hunt. Some hurt!sam with a sprinkling of hurt!dean and a dash of that Winchester angst/comfort we all love so much.

**Author's note: **More mayhem. More faeries making life interesting and some chuckle worthy banter I hope. :P**  
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**Do please Review once you've read. :D Every comment and vote of support helps keep me writing. Not to mention if I've pooched anything, someone can always tell me. :P**

_**-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-**_

_Sam felt the fabric of his shirt tug and then the cool breath of air across his chest. She pushed the remnants of his shirt aside. "I give you a token to think of me this night." He felt her hand on his chest again and choked on a scream as pain followed the slow path of her finger stroking down his skin from neck to just below his ribs. Terror was choking him, his breath stopped beneath the pressure that would not ease and he longed to scream once more as her head dropped to his chest and licked a long line of fire up the open wound he could feel bleeding. Her alabaster carved face rose into view, a drop of his blood trembling on her parted lips and she bent to him, caressing his face. "You taste…remarkable." and she kissed him._

**CHAPTER 5**

"How's he doing?" Bobby asked as he and Dean headed back to the map room.

"Tweaking on caffeine." Dean chuckled. "I think he's actually getting sick of coffee."

Bobby laughed. "Never happen. Not that boy. We should think about something more effective to keep him awake through this."

"What, like pills?" Dean shook his head. "He'd never take them and I wouldn't want him too. We'll manage, Bobby."

"I know you don't like it, son but if he falls asleep…" Bobby let the sentence hang and shrugged at the set expression on Dean's face. "Ok, just thought I'd suggest it."

"I'll take care of him." Dean said fiercely and turned the corner into the map room only to stop dead, Bobby bumping into him from behind. "Oh god…Sammy?" Dean rushed into the room where Sam leaned over the table, head down and so still.

"Dammit!" Bobby was right behind him. They grabbed Sam's shoulders and pushed him upright.

Sam's body heaved and his eyes shot open. "Dean!" He shouted and for several seconds, couldn't accept that his brother and Bobby were standing over him.

"Sam? I'm right here." Dean tapped his cheek and turned his head to face him. "You with us?"

"What the hell just happened?" Sam panted and leaned back into the supporting arms. His chest was on fire, demanding oxygen, his back singing the same painful tune but something was different. Dean hissed in a breath, staring down at his chest. "It was a dream? Wasn't it?" Sam asked, confused and afraid at the look on Dean's face and the pain he could now feel on his chest.

"Shit, Sammy." Dean reached down, eyes widening. Blood was blooming through the front of Sam's shirt. He took hold of it and pulled it slowly up revealing a long, shallow cut running all the way up his chest to the base of his throat. "I'm gonna kill her." Dean growled. "Slow."

"We gotta get him out of here before someone sees this." Bobby pried Dean's fingers from his brothers' shirt and let it fall. "Sam can you walk?"

Sam nodded, feeling disconnected and confused. He let Dean pull his outer shirt together and button it over the bloody one, let both men lever him to his feet and guide him out of the map room.

"Sam, try and look a little less stoned." Dean grumbled and got a good hold on his arm when he swayed. "Just to the car, Sammy. That's all. You can do that." Sam nodded and focused hard on walking, smiling absently at the librarian who walked past and gave them an odd look.

"Son forgot his medication." Bobby told her. "Diabetic."

"Oh goodness!" She exclaimed and went quickly ahead of them to open the doors. "I hope he'll be alright."

"Thanks." Dean said as they guided Sam outside and over to the car. "How you doing? Talk to me Sam."

In answer, Sam shook his head, trying to clear the cobwebs. "We really need to gank the damn faerie." He said with feeling and Dean chuckled.

"No argument here. We'll get her." Dean opened the passenger door and let Bobby settle Sam in the seat, then closed it. He turned to the older man and sighed. "Alright."

"Alright what?" Bobby asked, at a loss.

"Alright the…whatever you were talking about to keep him awake." Dean said and resisted the urge to punch the car, she didn't deserve it. "I don't like it but she gets into his head again and we're screwed." He really didn't like the idea anymore than Sam would but he was running out of options. "Why's he so out of it, Bobby?" Dean asked and this time it was a need for a father to make everything okay that colored his voice.

Bobby put a comforting hand on his shoulder, squeezing. "It's her. She's screwing with his head. We gotta keep him awake and alert and she can't get to him. We'll fix this." Dean nodded.

"Okay." He was deeply grateful to have Bobby there. It made him feel more in control. Between the two of them, they'd save Sam.

_**-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-**_

"No way. I'm not taking that stuff." Sam shook his head and stepped back from Dean, waving his hands.

"Sam it's not speed for crying out loud." Dean held up the bottle. "It's over the freakin counter man. You need it."

"No I don't." Sam knew the pills weren't narcotic, hell he'd seen them in every gas station across the country but that didn't make him want to take them.

"Coffee's not enough, Sammy." Dean told him and held the bottle out. "We cannot let her get to you again. You get that?"

Sam scowled at him. "Better than you do. She told me." Sam shivered and sat, holding a hand carefully over his newly wounded chest. "Trust me I know what she wants." He wanted a shower but Dean and Bobby weren't letting him have one until he agreed to this. Bobby was actually standing in front of the door like he was still a kid and Sam bristled at them.

"Put your hackles down, Tiger." Dean warned him. "We don't know where she is. If she takes you, I. Can't. Find. Her." He spaced the words out, making sure Sam was paying attention. "Not yet, maybe not in time and I am NOT gonna let that happen." He stepped up to his brother and held out the bottle. "You're taking them. End of discussion. You can hate me all you want later."

Sam fumed, tempted to take the bottle and throw it but knew just how badly that would go over. They stared at each other, the battle of wills they'd been having since Sam was old enough to argue with him. Dean raised one brow, then the other and Sam broke first with a snort of disgusted laughter.

"God you're an ass." He took the bottle and then snatched the water Dean handed him, who wisely said nothing until after Sam took the pills.

"Yeah but you love me." Dean said finally after Sam had swallowed them and grinned, relieved Sam had given in so easily. "Go on. I'll clean up that cut when you're done."

Sam's reply was a snort before he turned to Bobby. "Can I take a damn shower now, please?"

Bobby nodded and stepped away as Sam passed him and shut the door quietly. "He's gonna make us pay for that later."

"Oh yeah." Dean agreed. "Alright, we need to narrow this damn search down and I've got a tingle about the last place Sam found." He pulled out a folded map and pointed the caves out to Bobby.

"Spidey senses?" Bobby asked and smiled when Dean laughed.

"Something like that." Dean replied. Actually it was his intimate knowledge of standard Winchester luck. A cave that was hard to get to, out of the way and would make him get in that damn lake again? Yeah he knew that was going to be the place. The universe just hated him that much.

_**-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-**_

Sam wanted desperately for this hunt to be over. He stood in the shower, the hot spray beating on his back because it hurt too damn much on his chest. The wound was red, angry and determinedly still oozing blood, a fact which made him cringe knowing the holy water would be coming out again. "Dammit." He could feel the artificial alertness of the chemical spreading through him and hated that too even as it kept him safely awake. Dean would never have forced the pills on him if he weren't worried. He knew that. All the same it felt as though he'd been ambushed. He hunched in the spray, letting it soothe his sore back and leaned against the wall, defeated.

"Sammy you awake in there?" Dean's voice yelled over the spray and made him roll his eyes.

"Yes, Mom." Sam answered and tossed a rude hand gesture over the top of the shower curtain. He heard a laugh and the door shut and he sighed. The confusion and fear he'd felt at the library was still there, nipping at the back of his mind, waiting to take him again. That was what had convinced him to take the pills. He could feel it there and it frightened him because it wasn't his. It was something foreign, alien in his mind and he'd had more than enough of that for three lifetimes.

The one thing that truly scared him, that made him want to turn and run and not come back was the Cailleach's fascination with the wall in his mind. He'd had a taste of what was hidden behind it and he honestly wasn't sure if his mind would survive it all coming down at once. He was afraid Dean was right and it would break him if not kill him.

He reached back and shut the water off, deciding he'd hidden for long enough. No amount of hot water was going to remove the feel of the monster's hands from his skin or the taste of her lips and his blood from his mouth. Killing the thing that touched you, he knew, was the only way to make those memories fade. He dried himself, leaving pink stains on the white towel and then smiled when he saw the clothes piled neatly on the sink. His big brother mothering him still. Was it irritating? Yes. Would he ever give it up? Hell no.

He reached for the clothes with hands shaking from the artificial stimulant and sighed. It was going to be a long night.

_**-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-**_

She raged, not even her little brethren were safe. She stepped mercilessly on the back of a tiny, fluttering man and crushed him to the floor in her anger. She could not reach her prize. Her magic would not take him. Distantly she could feel the flow of something 'other' in his blood and it was keeping him from her. She relished the dream taste she'd had and longed to have more. A dream was only a dream, she had not truly had his blood upon her tongue yet but the tease of seeing it while he slept in her grasp undid her now.

"I will not be denied." The words crept from her throat in a growl to slide and slice through her chamber. She heard the small cries echo and shivered with the need to touch him, to smooth her hands along blood slicked skin, to drink him down while he wept in fear, his blood filling her mouth. He would come to her. This she was sure of. She knew what he was after being so close within his mind. He and the others, they would be driven to find her, to save him from her and it would be their undoing.

She quieted her fit of temper and hummed softly, gently, drawing the cloud of Faerie folk to her. She whispered to them sweetly, caressing damp backs and tangling her fingers in glistening green hair, sighing as their wings fluttered along her skin. They whimpered and sighed and flew up from her in a cloud to do what she had bid. "Come hunt me, my sweet." She breathed softly onto the new night air and waited.

_**-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-**_

"No offense but I hope you get bit next time." Sam said wearily and smirked when Dean punched his arm lightly. They were driving around the lake, staying as far back from the water as they could, Bobby behind them in his beat up truck. Sam sighed and shifted on the bench seat of the Impala trying to get comfortable for the hundredth time. The gash on his chest had indeed reacted to the holy water as he'd feared and it had taken both older men to hold him down while they purified it. His throat was raw from the screams he'd tried to hold back beneath the belt that had been placed between his teeth. As weary and exhausted as he was, his body was singing with energy from the stimulant. He twitched ever so often, unable to stop it and wondered how badly it was going to throw off his aim.

"How you doin' over there, Shakes?" Dean asked again and smiled at the irritated growl that answered him. "That good."

"You know we're gonna have to hoof it for a couple miles to get to the caves." Sam told him. "This service road wont go all the way out."

"Yeah I know. Bobby's got some scattershot rounds loaded with wrought iron." Dean grinned in anticipation. "Those little green bastards show up again and we're gonna have a surprise for them."

The Impala's headlights cut through the darkness as they drove over the road that was little more than a dirt track at this point. The lake glistened in the moonlight off to their left through the trees, mountains looming ahead of them behind the low hills. Dean was driving slower than his usual pace, trying to avoid the potholes and cursing each time he couldn't. Every bounce made Sam hiss beside him in pain. His little brother was a mess. If it had been any other hunt, he would have holed up in the motel room with Sam until he was a hundred percent, or at least a solid eighty. They didn't have that luxury this time. They couldn't afford to wait for the drugs to wear off and Sam to sleep. Sleep would mean death. Nor could they leave him alone in the room while they hunted her down with no one to make sure he stayed awake.

"End of the road." Sam said and pointed to the pile of dead trees across the track blocking any further progress. Dean stopped just short of them, Bobby's truck pulling up alongside him and cut the engine.

"Ok. You stay between me and Bobby." Dean said seriously. "And try not to twitch and shoot me by mistake?" He laughed and Sam thumped his arm before he got out.

"I can handle this." Sam said, irritated and took the shotgun Bobby tossed him.

"Wrought iron scattershot." Bobby grinned. "Make anything Faerie go runnin' for the hills if it doesn't outright kill it." They each had shotguns loaded with the special shot and handguns with the same rounds of wrought iron. Dean's flashlight winked on as he climbed the barrier of fallen trees and waited for them to catch up.

Sam groaned as he eased over the trees, feet thumping the ground on the other side and took a minute to catch his breath. "I want a vacation when this is over." He said and chuckled.

"Yeah, we'll go to Disneyland, princess." Dean retorted.

"Soon as I can stand up straight again, I'm kicking your ass." Sam warned.

"Give it a rest, you idjits. We aint on a nature hike here." Bobby growled at them with a smile. His warning acted as a call to battle.

Small, winged faeries erupted from the trees. Wet, glistening bodies flew at the men.

"Son of a bitch!" Dean exclaimed and fired into the center of the mass. He watched with satisfaction as the special rounds blew a hole through them, sending gory bits spattering onto the trees behind. Bobby and Sam fired alongside him, thinning their numbers. Dean shot again but before he could reload one of the little bastards came flying right at him. He flipped the shotgun in his hands and used it like a bat, swinging for the stands and sent the faerie tumbling into a nearby tree with a wet splat. "Home run baby!"

"Dean!" Sam's shout had him turning in time to see a six foot tree limb swinging for his head.

"Oh crap!" Dean ducked, taking a glancing hit to his shoulder and rolled. The faeries changed their tactics after that, rather than trying to attack directly, they lifted whole trunks from the barricade and used them as weapons. Bobby crashed to the ground as his knees were taken out from under him and Dean launched another volley into them, scattering them from his brother. "Sam! Look out!"

Sam hadn't the time to turn before something impacted hard with the back of his neck. The force sent him sprawling, gun flying into the leaf litter and he had a blurry image of his brother running for him when darkness took him.

_to be continued..._


	6. Chapter 6

**Title:** Who believes in the Tooth Fairy?

**Author**: Disasteriffic Kaz

**Info:** Set mid-season 6 post 6x14 Mannequin 3: The Reckoning. A stand-alone hunt. Some hurt!sam with a sprinkling of hurt!dean and a dash of that Winchester angst/comfort we all love so much.

**Author's note: **Yep. It's another chapter. Three in one day. My Muse was cooperating…probably means the next apocalypse is right around the corner. When she plays nice, bad things happen. :D

**Do please Review once you've read. :D Every comment and vote of support helps keep me writing. Not to mention if I've pooched anything, someone can always tell me. :P**

_**-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-**_

"_Oh crap!" Dean ducked, taking a glancing hit to his shoulder and rolled. The faeries changed their tactics after that, rather than trying to attack directly, they lifted whole trunks from the barricade and used them as weapons. Bobby crashed to the ground as his knees were taken out from under him and Dean launched another volley into them, scattering them from his brother. "Sam! Look out!"_

_Sam hadn't the time to turn before something impacted hard with the back of his neck. The force sent him sprawling, gun flying into the leaf litter and he had a blurry image of his brother running for him when darkness took him._

**CHAPTER 6**

"Sammy!" Dean fired blindly over Sam's head as his brother went down. "Dammit! Get off him!" Bobby's gun blasted beside his head and then both men were bowled to the side as a heavy tree trunk rolled into them. "Fucking Faeries!" Dean groaned and tried vainly to free his legs from the weight across them. It blocked his view of Sam and that was making him frantic.

"Sammy!" Dean called. "Dammit, Bobby?" He twisted to see behind him and saw Bobby, unconscious, being covered by the little winged men. "NO!"

Dean pushed at the trunk. He could feel his feet on the other side but his legs were effectively pinned and it weighed a ton. "Bobby! Dammit wake up! Sam!" Three faeries landed atop the tree trunk. They watched him with evil grins filled with sharp teeth in their diminutive, masculine faces. "Balls." Dean breathed and cried out angrily as they descended onto him.

Sharp teeth pierced the skin of his arms as he fended them off, or tried to. "Get the hell off me! Bobby!" Dean shouted, blood dripping from his arms to his face. He cried out when sharp pains bit along his unprotected legs where he couldn't see them.

"Hold still, son!" Bobby yelled and a branch swung past Dean's face sending two faeries into the darkness.

Dean was weak with relief and gratitude as Bobby cleared the hungry little things from him. "Legs! My legs, they're usin' me for a damn chew toy!" Dean writhed as Bobby jumped the trunk and Dean felt small jerks as the teeth left his skin and fell away.

"Ok." Bobby climbed back over, bleeding from various wounds of his own and placed a comforting hand on Dean's forehead. "Let's get this off you."

"Sam?" Dean asked. "Bobby get those things off him first. I'm good. Go!"

Bobby kept his hand in place and steeled himself for the explosion. "Son. They've taken him already. Sam's gone."

"What? No! Get…" Dean shoved frantically at the weight keeping him down. "Son of a bitch! Bobby get me out! SAM!"

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Sam woke suddenly, jerked into awareness as his shirt was ripped from him and cool air touched his skin, making him shiver. He opened his eyes and reared back at the two small faces hanging before him. Male water faeries.

A tinkling laugh sent them spiraling up and Sam looked frantically around him. His arms were chained to a high cave ceiling, his legs held firm by more of the faeries. Cold stone beneath his disturbingly bare feet leeched more warmth from him. He'd been stripped to his waist by the tiny faerie folk and light from torches flickered across the chamber. The Cailleach stood illuminated by the torches in her shift. She moved slowly to Sam and it took him a moment to realize she wasn't walking. Her feet didn't touch the floor as she floated to him.

"My sweet." She rose, splaying her small hands across his stomach, making him flinch. She ran them slowly up the muscled planes of his chest, circled his broad shoulders and tangled her fingers in the dark hair at the back of his neck. Her black, silken hair moved of its own accord almost, brushing and teasing across his bare skin.

"Get off me." Sam said angrily, trying to jerk away from her but finding no give in his chains.

"You should sleep." She breathed against his lips, forcing his head down to stare into his blue-green eyes. "I need not cause you pain to cause you fear if you would sleep." She pulled the tip of one finger down the center of his chest, reopening the wound Dean had so carefully closed, making him cry out.

Sam grinned with more bravado than he felt even as he panted for air. "What's wrong? Your magic Faerie dust not working so well anymore? That's too bad."

She hissed angrily. Sam gasped, throwing his head back as her nails raked down the still bruised skin of his back, leaving wet lines of pain in their wake. She pouted up at him then, brushing a tender hand along his jaw. She lowered herself slightly, stained fingers sliding down his chest and licked a long line up the open, bleeding wound. When she came back to his face, her lips were stained red and her eyes glowed a luminous blue. There was nothing but pleasure in her expression as she rested her hands on his shoulders.

"I knew you would taste good." She sighed and pressed her body against his chest, making him wince and writhe to try and escape her. "I did not know you would taste _this_ good." The shift was thin and he could feel every firm inch of her as she rolled against him, covering herself in the fresh blood. She hummed softly and Sam cried out. Pain blossomed in his arms and legs and along his back as the little faeries that held him sank their teeth into him. They didn't chew. He could feel them drinking, the light press of each little throat as it gulped against him, the little hands that pressed and pinched helping the blood flow.

"God!" He fought against the restraining hands, the chains, trying to throw himself free of them. All he did was make the Cailleach laugh. She pulled another razor sharp nail along his collarbone, opening the skin and Sam couldn't help but scream when she lowered her head, using her tongue to widen the wound, coaxing more blood into her mouth. "DEAN!"

"He will be dead by now my sweet." She told him softly, sadly and looked once more into his eyes. Her face was a mask of his blood as was the rest of her. The filmy cloth she wore matted in red and hugging her slender form. "My little cousins will have killed him. They will feed from him." She took his face in firm, inescapable hands and pressed her mouth to his, forcing him to taste his own blood as she kissed him.

"I would have you sleep." She leaned back and looked at him. "There is a most intriguing wall in your mind." She sniffed along his throat, his ear, biting gently to make him flinch from her again. "I would see what is behind it."

"Go to hell." Sam cursed and when she put her face before his again, he threw caution to the wind. He tipped his head back and then rammed his forehead into hers, knocking her into the stone floor with a cry. Blood rushed from her nose as she screamed up at him, enraged.

"Flay him my lovelies!"

Sam waited for the agony, chest heaving and frowned when it didn't come. Instead he heard a light thump, and another and felt some of the pain recede as teeth left his flesh. He looked down startled and saw the little folk looking up at him with glazed eyes, wings beating too slowly to keep them afloat they lost their grip on him and dropped to the floor. He would have sworn they were sleeping. One by one each of the little faeries feeding from him fell while the Cailleach raged on the floor of the cavern.

"What have you done?" She screamed it up at him. "How? HOW!"

"That's my Sammy!" Dean's voice cut over her screeching and Sam near fainted in relief as his big brother stalked into the cavern, Bobby at his heels and murder on both their faces. Both men were spotted with blood and open wounds, Dean limping more bow-legged than normal. He pumped a round into the shotgun he held and fired it into the Cailleach's back. "No one screws with my little brother you bitch!"

They had run, he and Bobby, a mile and a half along the shore of the lake in the dark. Bleeding and weary but fear had given them strength. The little faeries that had attacked them and drank from them had all fallen to the ground, making easy targets. Neither of them knew why but they weren't about to check the teeth of their gift horse. Dean had thought his head would explode with the worry of what the Cailleach was doing, if she would have time before they arrived to break down Sam's wall.

The cave had been easy enough to find, jutting out into water only knee deep. At first they had followed the sound of his brother's screams until they'd gone silent. Dean had felt sure he'd lost him but hope had gotten him moving again when they heard her scream. Energy he didn't know he had flooded through him and the first sight he had of his brother, chained and bleeding, half naked and grinning down at the damn Tooth Fairy had made him want to laugh with joy.

The Cailleach screeched, an ear piercing sound and exploded up from the floor, her back a red ruin. She floated upward and threw her arms out at the men. Dean and Bobby were thrown into the walls, shotguns spun off out of reach.

"Dean! Bobby!" Sam shouted, struggling to free himself and help them.

Dean slid to the floor dazed as the remarkably pretty monster floated in his direction. He waited for her to come closer, smiling up. Had she known him, she would have known to run away from that smile. She would have seen her death in his green eyes. Her bare feet touched the stone floor and Dean drew his desert eagle from his back, aiming between her shocked eyes.

"Say good night, Gracie." He pulled the trigger. The first shot knocked her head back, the second took her in the chest and tossed her to the floor. Dean pushed to his feet and stalked to her, firing round after round into her body until the gun clicked empty.

"I think she's dead." Sam said, breathless with relief. Another shot rang out and he looked to see Bobby lowering his gun after placing another wrought iron shot in her head.

"Better safe than sorry." Bobby deadpanned and smiled.

"Sammy." Dean put the gun away and took stock of his brother. "Man you are a mess."

"Get me down. Please?" Sam asked. With her dead and rescue at hand, adrenaline and bravado were being replaced with exhaustion and shellshock. He so desperately needed to be free and the hell out of the cave, away from her and several scalding showers sounded pretty good as well.

"Yeah buddy, we've gotcha." Dean worked at freeing one arm while Bobby did the other and Sam collapsed into his brother's waiting arms. "Shit. You're one heavy sasquatch."

Sam laughed, or tried. It came out more of a sob and he simply held on to his brother and the hand Bobby put on his shoulder for a moment.

"Come on, Tiger. Let's get you out of here." Dean said gruffly. He'd never admit it, but he'd held on to Sam for himself for a second too. Bobby smiled at his boys, unashamed of his damp eyes and slipped under one of Sam's arms as Dean took the other.

"I'll come back later. Clean this up." Bobby said and kicked a few water faeries out of his way as they left.

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_To be continued… epilogue coming tomorrow. A little clean up, some mush and an explanation. :P_


	7. Epilogue

**Title:** Who believes in the Tooth Fairy?

**Author**: Disasteriffic Kaz

**Info:** Set mid-season 6 post 6x14 Mannequin 3: The Reckoning. A stand-alone hunt. Some hurt!sam with a sprinkling of hurt!dean and a dash of that Winchester angst/comfort we all love so much.

**Author's note: **I decided to take more than a few sentences to wrap this story up with the last chapter and so you, my lovey readers are now the proud owners of an Epilogue. Don't feed it after midnight and never get it wet and you'll be fine. :D

**Do please Review once you've read. :D Every comment and vote of support helps keep me writing. Not to mention if I've pooched anything, someone can always tell me. :P**

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"_Yeah buddy, we've gotcha." Dean worked at freeing one arm while Bobby did the other and Sam collapsed into his brother's waiting arms. "Shit. You're one heavy sasquatch."_

_Sam laughed, or tried. It came out more of a sob and he simply held on to his brother and the hand Bobby put on his shoulder for a moment._

"_Come on, Tiger. Let's get you out of here." Dean said gruffly. He'd never admit it, but he'd held on to Sam for himself for a second too. Bobby smiled at his boys, unashamed of his damp eyes and slipped under one of Sam's arms as Dean took the other._

"_I'll come back later. Clean this up." Bobby said and kicked a few water faeries out of his way as they left._

**Epilogue**

The drive back to the motel was a comedy of grunts, moans and curses as neither Dean nor Sam could find a position that didn't hurt. Dean's bruised and dented thighs burned every time he pressed on the gas, Sam groaning over each pothole as he leaned forward with his head on the dash. The Cailleach had fileted his back open with her nails, not to mention the dozen or so new bite marks purpling virulently on his skin.

"Don't suppose you're feeling sleepy yet?" Dean asked him with a sympathetic glance. Cleaning all those wounds with holy water was going to be torture. Sam gave him a pained laugh.

"When are we ever that lucky?" Sam replied and turned his head so he could see his brother. "You want, I could knock _you_ out?" He said with a smirk. Dean had plenty of bites himself that needed cleaning and Sam knew it was going to feel like someone pouring liquid metal into them.

"Only reason I don't smack you right now is cause I'm an awesome big brother." Dean snorted and pulled into the motel parking lot. There wasn't an inch of Sam he _could_ hit just then that wasn't already hurt. He parked in front of their door under the glare of a street light, Bobby's truck rumbling in beside them. "You really gotta stop attracting the buckets o' crazy chicks, Sammy."

Sam thumped his head back on the dash with a sad laugh, listening to Dean get out and a moment later the door beside him opened. He pushed himself up and let Dean help him out of the car. "Up we go, Sasquatch."

Dean supported his weight away from the car and bumped the door shut. "Dean." Sam said in his ear and he turned to find old Mrs. Olson striding toward them.

"Oh crap." Dean groaned and wondered how they were going to explain all the blood to the little old lady who was probably going to go screaming to the police any minute. "Uh…Mrs. Olson, this…"

"Oh shush now and get in your room." She said firmly, tutting gently as she looked at them. She gave Bobby an absent smile and turned to open the door with her master key. "I've some herbs here that will help with those bites." The three men, rather than moving, stood staring at her mutely in surprise. "Well go on then! Honestly, sometimes you Hunters can be awful slow." She grinned up at them, nodding happily when they jerked into motion, filing past her. She followed them in and closed the door.

"How's she know…we're Hunters?" Sam asked softly and then moaned. His head swam, his muscles suddenly stopped obeying him and he had only time for an… "Uh…D'n?" and toppled. He was saved from an impact from the floor only by his brothers' arms.

"Guh." Dean grunted as all Sam's weight was suddenly on him. "Couldn't wait to crash…til we got to the bed?"

"Hang on." Bobby dashed to Sam's other side and between the two of them, they got the now unconscious and unresponsive youngest Winchester laid out on his stomach.

Dean turned to look at Mrs. Olson who was hovering by the door, waiting. He raised his brows at her. "You wanna tell me exactly what's going on? How do you know…"

"That you're Hunters?" She smiled again, her eyes sparkling. "Ah well now, my husband was a Hunter you see. Good man and a good Hunter." She set the bag she carried on Dean's bed and folded her hands in front of her. "We came her nineteen years ago, following a rash of unexplained deaths." She nodded toward the lake. "The Cailleach has been feeding here for a long time."

"Well you missed her." Dean said, anger bubbling up and he squashed it back down.

"She took him." The old woman smiled sadly. "She knew he was a Hunter and she took him for it. So when I saw you boys, I knew exactly what you were and I knew she'd be coming for one of you."

"You couldn't tell us that?" Dean let the anger go now and threw an arm out at Sam. "You couldn't have warned us?"

"No, darlin'." She shook her head. "She gets in your head. If I'd told you anything, she would have known. I've been trying to protect this town for almost twenty years but I had to be quiet about it. You ate the soup." She said then, confusing Dean and grinned. "I gave you what help I could."

"What about the soup?" Bobby growled. He'd eaten it as well and was more than a little concerned that it had been tampered with.

"I should tell you, I'm Irish." Mrs. Olson smoothed invisible wrinkles in her apron and winked up at Dean. "We know all about the Cailleach and her ilk. I couldn't go after her myself you see, but I could give you boys something to give you an edge."

"Soup?" Dean snorted. "Look it was good and all, but…"

"The herbs in the soup, boy." Mrs. Olson chuckled. "Very special herbs in a very special combination. Oh for goodness sake will you sit before you fall boy?" She reached across and took Dean's arm, pushing him down beside his brother. His legs were shaking, the muscles spasming with bruises from being trapped under the tree. Sam didn't so much as twitch at the movement, the stimulant gone from his system he was down for the count.

"Now, the herbs, oh hand me my bag." She said absently to Bobby and bent for a closer look at Sam's back. "They're an old recipe, my grandmother's. It's rather like slipping the Fey a mickey." She smirked up at Dean's surprised face and patted his shoulder. "You ate it and the herbs and when the Fey fed from you, they ate them too."

"That's why the little bastards started dropping off?" Bobby said on a laugh as he handed her the bag. "Was like they all got drunk or somethin'."

"Well they did, sort of." She dug through her bag and brought out a covered jar. "Now, you go put some water in that for me." She handed it to Bobby. "Helps with the healing." Next she removed a clear glass bottle with a rosary floating in the bottom.

"I'll do that." Dean said firmly and took the bottle from her. He wasn't going to allow anyone to cause his brother that much pain even to help him. Mrs. Olson looked up and nodded, understanding in her eyes and backed away to sit on the other bed.

"I'm so sorry I couldn't do more." She said then, dropping her head sadly. "I wish I could have told you, warned you but she would have known." She brushed a strand of silver hair from her forehead. "My James was a bloody good Hunter but he was no match for her. She let me live all these years you see." Her voice softened and Dean heard a thread of anger weaving through it. "She was in his head and she knew about me and she didn't care. Wasn't scared even a little of anything I could do. I was helpless and she knew it."

"Not so helpless." Bobby said kindly, coming back and handing the covered pot to her. She took it with a grateful smile.

"Aye." She smiled fondly at Dean and his sleeping brother. "I was hoping you'd be able to finish her off with my help."

Dean uncorked the bottle of holy water and sighed, praying Sam's exhaustion would keep him out for this. He poured the water along his back, starting at his shoulders and going down each claw mark, each bite. Sam twitched weakly, a low moan escaping him but otherwise remained passive through the whole of the process. Dean heaved a relieved breath and set the water aside.

"There's more on his legs." Mrs. Olson observed, and rose. She handed the covered pot to Dean. "Smooth this on any open wounds. It will numb them a bit, help them heal faster and there are bandages in my bag as well." She patted his shoulder fondly. "I'll leave you to it, save some of his modesty from an old woman, eh?" She chuckled and went to the door. "You boys ever need anything, you call me and I'll hear naught of money. There'll always be a room here for you."

"Thanks, Ma'am." Dean said and smiled, meaning it. "For everything."

She slipped silently from the room with a last smile, leaving the Hunters alone. "That's some woman." Bobby said with a smile and wished she were a bit younger, not that he was a spring chicken himself but damn he wasn't in his golden years yet. "Well let's get a look at you boy." Bobby reached for Dean's shirt only to be shrugged off.

"Sam first. I wanna get him cleaned up while he's still comatose." Dean started slathering the balm from the jar on his back. "Better for him if he doesn't have to feel the rest of it."

Bobby nodded and dropped a caring hand on the back of Dean's neck before passing him the bandages. "Well let's get his back mummified then and roll him. Gotta get his pants off."

Dean groaned. "Man…did you have to put that image in my head?" Bobby only laughed, waiting until Dean had covered his brothers' back, then helped him roll Sam's boneless body. His chest had left a long, crimson stain on the blanket, his legs spotting the yellow fabric more. "Damn."

"He's alright." Bobby reassured him and waved a hand. "You get his belt."

"No wonder people always think we're gay. Jesus." Dean laughed, shaking his head and bent to peel the blood soaked denim from Sam's legs. "You owe me, little brother." He grabbed up the holy water again while Bobby disposed of the ventilated jeans. "What do ya say, Sammy? How about we do Vegas week early this year?" Another soft moan issued from his little brother as he doused his wounded, bloody legs in holy water and Dean smiled. "I'll take that as a yes."

_The end_


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